Taking the Census-Taker

A lot of people envy teachers because they get three months off—with pay—every summer. And this is true—they do. But also most of them try to get a summer job to add a little to the annual income. And I was one of those "most."

During that summer, I was able to get a three-month job working with the U.S. Census Bureau, which was conducting its once-every-ten-years census. Since most of the census-takers were in their twenties and thirties, and I was in my mid-fifties, the director of the bureau in that small city decided that because of my age and my background, I would make an excellent instructor for the census-takers. This was fine with me since the job paid more.

After being instructed myself, I taught classes of about 25 students at a time in an intensive six-hour-a-day, one-week course. And I got to know a number of the students pretty well during lunch and the various break periods. One of those I got to know was Victoria Jonsen, a very pretty blonde of about five-foot-eight, 110 pounds, with the willowy figure of a ballerina or gymnast—which in fact she had been in high school.

Victoria—or Vickie, as she liked to be called—must have seen me as some sort of a father figure, since at lunch, rather than sitting with persons of her own age, she would always endeavor to sit next to me and discuss her love life with me, a subject I had very little interest in. She had a boyfriend named Duval that she was apparently serious about, but it seemed that he was not as serious about her. God knows why, since she was a knockout and seemed to have a pleasant personality as well.

But one day in class, I noticed to my surprise that she seemed to be crying. Quietly and gently, tears were rolling down her cheeks—until she wiped them away. No one else noticed it but me, since I was the only one facing her.

At lunch, I motioned for her to come over and sit next to me, which she did.

"What's the matter?" I asked. "You look like someone just killed your dog."

"It's my boyfriend Duval. I told you about him."

"Yes, but you didn't tell me anything bad."

"Can I tell you what happened?" she asked.

"Of course."

"I thought I was going to be studying last night, but I finished early, so I decided to go see him at his apartment. I knocked on the door a couple of times, but no one came. So I thought I would go out to the parking area to see if his car was there. It was there all right, and he was in it, and guess what he was doing?"

"What?"

"He was making out with Rebecca, my best friend."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, they were kissing hot and heavy, and I noticed that a pair of panties was draped over the rearview mirror—and they sure weren't mine. Then they both disappeared down on the seat, and I can imagine what they were doing."

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"No, I'm afraid to. I don't think I want to hear what he will say—or hear his lies."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I love him. But I hate him! I want to get even."

"How?"

"I don't know."

Just then, Rusty, another census student and a friend of Vickie's came up. "Vic, yo!" She turned. "Becky and I are going to go to the Starlight tonight. You want to come?"

"With who? I told you about Duval."

So apparently I was not the only recipient of this story. Ah, teen angst, how sad...and boring.

"Oh yeah, I forgot. Why don't you come anyway? It will take your mind off it."

I should mention at this point that the small city in which we worked was one of the few in America to still have a drive-in theater, the Starlight. Instead of running new movies, the Starlight offered nothing but cult films, sometimes running them up to two months at a time. Being a drive-in and knowing what drive-ins were used for by young people, the owners figured as long as the price of admission and the pizza were good, it didn't matter what was on the screen.

"Actually, I've never been there," I said, "I think I would enjoy seeing what it was like—if you wouldn't mind, Victoria?" I turned to her.

"....I guess not," she replied.

"And it would take your mind off things," I said.

She sighed. "All right."

"How about we go out to the College Diner for burgers and fries after class is done, and then we can go from there to the drive-in," Rusty suggested.

"In that case, I'm buying—for everyone," I said.

"Wow! Even better!"

"I want to go home after class, take a shower and change clothes," Vickie said, "So I'll meet you at the diner, and then we all can go in your car."

"Okay," Rusty replied.

So I need to add one thing at this point: If you think I had an ulterior motive in wanting to go with them, I did NOT...at this point. But I did later.

I had never met Rusty's girlfriend Julia before, but when he picked me up, I saw that she was quite pretty and totally different from Vickie. Julia was short, dark-haired, and definitely a little more curvy than Vickie, with what appeared to be very nice breasts. She was dressed in a cute little blue denim dress with a red sash around the waist. I think all four of them, now 18 or 19, had graduated from the same high school.

When Vickie arrived at the diner, I wondered even more how her boyfriend could have two-timed her with someone else. She was wearing a colorful and full yellow peasant skirt, an off-the-shoulder short-sleeve frilly white blouse, and low-heeled white shoes. If I had been asked to describe a "dream date," she would have been it.

During dinner at the College Diner, I learned that the two drive-in features were Night of the Living Dead and The Rocky Horror Show, neither one of which I had ever seen, although I had heard of them of course.

After we found a good but semi-private parking place at the drive-in, Rusty went up to the refreshment stand and brought back two containers of popcorn and four Cokes. The first feature started on time, but I was to find out that the show in the car was going to be a lot more interesting than the one on the screen.

After a few minutes, Rusty turned in the seat. "Mr. Baxter, we know you're a really nice guy and like young people, and being a teacher, you must be pretty liberal-minded, right?"

"I guess so."

"So you know that kids don't come to a drive-in to watch the movie, right?"

"I guess I know that."

"Julia and I like to make out while we're here, so you wouldn't be offended by that, would you?"

Rusty turned back. "Great." He looked over at Julia. "Hey, little girl, how would you like a lollipop?"

"I'd love a lollipop," she replied with a smile.

"It just happens I have one right here," he said looking down. Then I heard the sound of a zipper. Julia leaned over and disappeared from view. A few moments later, I heard a slurping sound. Rusty leaned his head back on the seat.

"I'm really sorry about this," Vickie whispered. "I didn't think they would do it when you were here."

"I don't mind. As I say: I'm the guest here."

"I'm glad you feel that way." She leaned back against the seat. "I think I've seen this movie ten times already."

I turned to her—and could see that tears were beginning to form in her eyes again—and I didn't think it was because she had already seen the movie. I really felt sorry for her. I reached up, took her face in my hands, turned her to me, and wiped the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs. She looked so in need of comfort that even though I was old enough to be her father—and more—I couldn't help leaning over and gently kissing her on the lips. To my surprise, she responded and kissed me back. Apparently, it was just the kind of comfort she needed, so I kissed her again. Rusty in the meantime had also disappeared from view, so we were virtually alone.

"I shouldn't be doing this," Vickie whispered.

"Neither should I." But I kissed her again, holding her shoulders, and she kissed me back, more passionately this time.

As I have already mentioned, I had no intention of trying to take some kind of advantage of Vickie in her saddened state, but this was just too much to resist, so I kissed her once more and slipped my tongue into her mouth. Again to my surprise, she put her arms on my sides and responded in kind, sliding her tongue against mine.

Still kissing her, I closed my hand on the top of her short-sleeve blouse. She made no resistance at all when I pushed it down her arm. Beneath the blouse I could see that she wore a filmy white bra. I reached behind her to the clip of her bra and unfastened it.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she whispered again into my ear.

"I know—but then neither should have been Duval." Was that a brilliant line or not? I soon learned that it was, since she offered no resistance at all as I gently pushed her blouse and her bra down to her waist—revealing the most beautiful breasts I had ever seen. They were not big, but they were perfectly formed, with quarter-size pink pouty nipples. "After all, revenge is the best revenge," I said stupidly, as I lowered my mouth to her nearest nipple and began to suck on it. She started to breathe more deeply, making me feel that she did not want me to stop, so I paid the same attention to the other nipple.

I decided I might as well see how far I could go. I put my hand on the hem of her full skirt a little below the knee and slowly pulled it up until it was bunched around the top of her thighs. Now I could see her panties, which appeared to be white cotton with blue trim. It was now or never. I know she was young enough to be my daughter, but how could I resist an opportunity like this? I slipped both of my hands under her skirt until I could feel the sides of her panties. "Sit up a little," I whispered. And she did so. Slowly, I eased her panties down over her thighs, over her knees, and let them drop around her ankles.

"I've never done this with anyone but Duval," she said softly.

"Then do you want me to continue?"

She thought about it for a moment. "Yes," she replied.

And why not? We both could hear the sounds from the front seat, and the juicy slurping sound that we heard was not from Julia's upper lips.

I pushed Vickie's skirt up further, until it was bunched around her belly. Now I could see the crinkly brownish-blonde hairs of her pussy. She quickly looked around to make sure no one was looking. The windows of the car were beginning to steam up. I slipped my hand up the inside of her thigh until it was resting on her warm bush. She began to breathe even more deeply. "Lift up a little," I said, and she did so. I put two fingers of my hand in my mouth to make them wet, then gently eased them into the downy folds of her Little Beaver.

"Oh God," she muttered.

I spent some time stroking her back and forth from the inside until I could feel that she was getting quite wet. Her breathing was growing more rapid all the time. And so was mine as I realized I was getting the biggest erection that I ever had. I took another chance by pulling my slick fingers from her pussy, taking the wrist of her left hand, and laying it on the front of my khakis. "That's what you've done to me," I said.

"I'm sorry," she replied as she wrapped her hand around it and went up and down the length. "What should I do?"

"I know I have no right to suggest this, but I know what I would like you to do, and I can tell you ahead of time that I had a vasectomy five years ago, so a condom would not be needed. Also this would be a good way to pay your boyfriend back." I was obviously using every argument I could think of.

"How would we do it?"

"Well, the easiest way would be for you to pull your skirt up and sit on my lap. You're so wet inside that it probably would be no trouble at all for me to put it in you."

"As big as it is?"

That did it. "As big as it is." I unzipped my pants and took it out.

"Wow," she said looking at it.

"Would you like to have a taste?"

She didn't reply but bent over and licked all around the head. Then she put it in her mouth, taking as much of it as she could. I would have liked this to go on for a long time, but I knew I could not stand much more.

"You're going to have to stop—or else I'm going to come in your mouth," I said.

"All right." She sat up and lifted her skirt up to her waist, looked quickly out the window again, and slid up in the seat just enough to scoot over and sit on my lap. I wrapped my hands around her naked thighs and stuck my two fingers back into her pussy—which was even wetter now.

"Life up a little," I said. She did, and I slid it in, all the way to the hilt.

"Oh Goddddd," she muttered.

"Now go up and down on it." She did, slowly. "How does it feel?" I asked.

She turned her head. "It feels WONDERFUL."

I wish I could have kept it going for the full length of the two movies, but an older man having sex with a very young girl can only take so much. Within a few minutes of her going up and down, I shot a big load of cum into the depths of her pussy.

"Oh God!" she cried. "I'm COMING!" And she did; I could feel it gushing around my cock.

"What's going on here?" Rusty demanded, as he poked his head over the seat. "Oh my God!" Then what appeared to be a half-naked Julia poked her head and shoulders over the seat. "Oh my God!" she uttered.

I naturally tried to maintain my dignity as a teacher. "This may look like one thing, but actually it's another," I said, not knowing what the hell I was talking about.

Rusty laughed. "It looks to me like Vickie is getting fucked."

"And very well," Julia added.

Vickie had made no attempts whatsoever to hide her nearly naked body. In fact she laughed. "That was the BEST orgasm I ever had in my life!" she cried.

"So good that I'm glad I am not going out in public after this," I said, trying to make light of the spectacle. "I think the front of my pants would be a giveaway as to what I had been doing."

"Are you supposed to do this with your students?" Rusty asked with a laugh.

"Of course. It's in the manual under Taking the Census Taker."

They all laughed.

But I did not know if Vickie would still be laughing the next time I saw her, or if she would be feeling that I had taken advantage of her distressed state.

"What's happening with you and Duval?" I asked her after the next class.

"I dumped him," she said with a smile. "....Are you doing anything tonight?"